


Paving Reality

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Melancholy, Recreational Drug Use, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: It spinned. The walls, the floors, those useless paintings that fed his delirium.There was nothing normal left, nothing that was still right.Like in that room, so inside of him.





	Paving Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: James-Sirius, Cocaine, Room of Requirement, "Don’t bullshit me. Killing oneself has never done anybody any good.”

It spinned. The walls, the floors, those useless paintings that fed his delirium.

There was nothing normal left, nothing that was still right.

Like in that room, so inside of him.

Sirius had met recently the relief of hallucinations, yet he already felt enslaved to it.

He had chosen a Muggle drug to do so, as if he was trying to defy one more time his role as a Pureblood. Or, at least, that’s how he liked to see it.

It wasn’t a rebellion, like the bike or the posters in his room. It had soon become an obsession, deceitful as nothing he’d experimented before. Started as a game, as if he was trying once again to cross boundaries he didn’t even know had been imposed on him.

But now he was far over the barricade, he was over any convention or any lifestyle that could’ve been called sane. Or, he shivered at the thought, human.

He sniffed that candid dust, which looked so pure and innocent, but was so invasive, treacherous, disloyal.

Healthy, in a way he could’ve never imagined.

He managed to forget everything, he could go over his problems, over the barriers imposed by his name, over the feeling of not belonging to anyone and anywhere.

Too much of a Gryffindor to be a Black, too much of a Black to be a Gryffindor.

Sirius fluctuated in nobody’s land, wandering without knowing what path he should’ve taken.

He laid on the freezing floor, watching the ceiling spinning, creating drawings that bore nothing of tangible. A smile arose on his face, a smile unreal and with a vague and bitter taste of a sickness that was growing into him, slowly.

He barely noticed a soft creak, but it interpreted it as a far noise, not influential on that apparent calm that permeated him.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t ignore the shape moving in the semi-darkness of the room, which after a mild hesitation sat next to him.

Sirius laughed when he recognized James in those shady features.

“Hi, friend.” he muttered. James bit his lip, uncertain as to what to do.

The other one notices, but he didn’t mind it so much. Sirius was irritated, despite his initial laughter. He didn’t want other people to meddle in those moments he dedicated to himself. Those moments in which even love, affection and friendship lost any possible meaning.

“Sirius, would you mind explaining to me what the hell are you doing?” James said, with an apparently calm tone that, Sirius knew it, hid a raging fury.

“Your imagination is definitely getting worse, Prongs.” was Sirius’ mysterious answer, given without looking him in the eyes. James sighed.

“I thought you said it was just once, that you weren’t gonna do it again.” he murmured. His tone annoyed Sirius.

He didn’t like to see him that way, at all. He was used to the sunny James Potter, unconcerned and irreverent, instead of that version of him, less impetuous and rogue, but more sincere. Despite all, he had grown used to it. There was a sort of mutual defence between them, and part of this silent agreement was to accept every flaw of the other’s character.

And if Sirius endured those brief yet intense moment of his friend’s melancholy, James wasn’t as tolerant with him.

The stare of pure despise James gave him tear Sirius brutally from the arms of oblivion, to throw him back into the simple, unadulterated, sordid reality.

“James, for Merlin’s sake! Don’t be unreasonable. We both know what I have to go th... what we all have to go through every day! And you demand I stayed closed up in the dormitory wallowing in pain and agony?” he ironized. “It’s not for me, and you know it.”

James’ face unfolded in a benevolent smile, different from his previous expression.

“It’s not for me either, Padfoot. But clouding you mind surely is not the solution, is it?”

“It does me good.” Sirius protested weakly.

“Don’t bullshit me. Killing oneself has never done anybody any good.” he sighed, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Listen, Sirius: I know, or at least I can imagine, what you’re going through. I know what’s going through your mind, I know there are moments when you thing you’ve got nothing and no one. I was just hoping that after seven years you’d have understood that during these moments you don’t need to take refuge in a stupid Muggle drug or in hallucinations. There’s Remus. There’s Peter. And there’s me.” he said. Sirius loosen the tension in his muscles, abandoning against James’ body.

“Are you trying to say that reality can be better than hallucinations?” he asked, challenging. The walls of the Room of Requirement stopped spinning, and he went back to be human, that simple, useless human being, together with the person he loved the most in the world.

James laughed, malicious.

“Let’s just say that when you feel this elusive sickness coming...” he slipped a hand beneath Sirius’ shirt. “There are better ways to come out of it.” he concluded, whispering seducing in his ear. Sirius finally managed to allow himself a sincere smile, and he turned to face James.

“I’m glad you see it that way, because... you know, it happens _so_ often for me to feel sad and alone.” he provoked the boy, causing him to laugh again.

Almost simultaneously, both their stares fell on the small table in front of them, still streaked by a slight stripe of white dust.

“Sirius...” James said, almost exhausted.

“ _Evanesco._ ” Sirius whispered, making it disappear.

It wasn’t going to be easy. A gesture of love or affection wasn’t enough, no matter how deep it could be, to make him empty his own mind.

He would’ve still felt the need to feel the walls spinning, closing in on him, to make him feel protected and, at the same time, as if he had a death threat over his head.

It would’ve taken time.

But, most of all, he would’ve needed someone close.

And to remind him of that, there were James’ hands, curious and ever-present. Powerful, more than any existing drug.


End file.
